


Fumbling Through

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Follow the North Star [15]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 15:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10699956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: “Roman kissed me today,” Evan says, and Harry’s stomach drops.“Oh,” Harry says. “So it’s like that.”





	Fumbling Through

When Harry invited Evan over, he kind of knew he’d spend the entire time leading up to it anxious about it, but _fuck_. He tries to keep himself busy, which is easy enough when he’s picking Beau up or swinging by the grocery store to grab some stuff for dinner, frowning in the beer aisle before grabbing three different six packs so he can guarantee having something Evan will like, because he’s never paid attention to his beer choices and he’s kicking himself for it now.

Keeping busy’s harder once he gets home. Harry finds himself desperately trying to find something that his cleaner didn’t get to — she did a great job, damn her — waffles on what to wear for a pathetic amount of time before cracking and calling Annie, who laughs at him but gives the final verdict after he sends her pictures of his options.

After that it’s just a whole lot of nothing to do. His place is clean, the food’s all stuff Harry can’t do anything with until dinner, he lasts about two minutes flicking irritably through channels on cable before giving up. 

“Let’s go for a walk, Beau,” Harry says, and spends the walk making sure that Beau knows to be cool and not scare Evan away.

Beau is not a good listener in the end. When Evan knocks on the door, punctual to the minute, Beau goes skittering to the door, and tries to jump Evan the second Harry opens the door.

“Hi buddy,” Evan says, kneeling down, and laughs when Beau licks his chin, squirming with excitement to have Evan pet him. Harry has never felt more in sync with his dog.

“C’mon, Beau, let him up,” Harry says, after Beau tries to get away with more licking, Evan gently pushing his face away. “Sorry, he gets excited.”

“I don’t mind,” Evan says, straightening up with a final pat to Beau’s head. He was all smiles with Beau, but the second he looks at Harry it drops to something miserable, which. Okay, ouch.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks. 

“Um,” Evan says. “Can we talk?”

Harry hates those words. Harry hates those words so fucking much.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Harry asks.

Evan blows out a breath, looks down at the floor, where Beau’s flopped down with his head on his foot. “Roman kissed me today,” Evan says, and Harry’s stomach drops.

“Oh,” Harry says. “So it’s like that.”

Evan frowns. “Like what?” he asks.

“This is the part where you let me down gently, right?” Harry asks. “Do the whole ‘it’s not you it’s me’ and the ‘Roman’s just so—” 

“Harry,” Evan interrupts.

“What?” Harry snaps.

“Can I talk, please?” Evan asks.

“Just giving you a script,” Harry mutters.

“I mean, you know I like him,” Evan says, and Harry laughs, humorless, because understatement. “But I think I like you too?”

“You think,” Harry repeats flatly.

“I mean I liked, um —” 

“What, the first available mouth?” Harry asks.

Evan frowns. “No,” he says. “I don’t actually know you that well, considering like —”

Harry snorts.

“Can you let me talk?” Evan says. “Please?”

“Fine,” Harry says. “Talk.”

“You were pretty mean to me last season,” Evan says, and Harry flinches. “But you’ve been — I like the Harry I’ve seen lately? I think he’s funny and kind of sweet and, like. I want to know him better. This probably sounds really stupid.”

“No,” Harry says, clearing his throat. “No, it’s. It’s not stupid.”

“And with Roman,” Evan says, and it’s all Harry can do not to just walk out of the room or interrupt, but he grits his teeth and keeps his mouth shut. “I’ve wanted him for, like. A long time. And I still do. Like, if you asked me a week ago if I would have walked away if Roman kissed me I really don’t think I’d say yes, but—”

“You walked away?” Harry asks.

“Harry,” Evan says.

“Shutting up,” Harry says quickly, still caught on the fact he _walked away_.

“This is really confusing,” Evan says. “It’s kind of. A lot? And I’m pretty confused right now. Because I like him, but I like you too, and it’s just —” He runs a hand through his hair, and Harry bites the inside of his mouth to keep from telling him to hurry up and put him out of the complete misery that is him optimistically thinking this might actually not be Evan telling him he’s picking Roman, because of course he is.

“I want to see —” Evan says, chews his lip. “I want both of you. I know that’s really selfish and if you aren’t comfortable with that I totally get it, but.” He ducks his head, shrugging.

Harry’s knee-jerk response is to tell him he has to choose, but the thing is, Harry knows exactly what that choice would be, and it wouldn’t be him. Maybe it’s stupid and pathetically hopeful to think this, but — it could be him. Eventually. And that’s not something that can happen if Harry tells him it’s him or nothing, because Evan’s been pining over Roman for more than a year now, no way he wouldn’t go to him. If Harry looks at it a different way, it’s kind of flattering that Evan didn’t straight up run into Roman’s arms, all ‘fuck that Harry dude, this is what I want’. 

He still feels like he’s been punched in the stomach, and right now it’s like he’s choosing to keep getting punched or — he doesn’t know, this metaphor isn’t working. He just knows that the punch in the stomach is something he might be willing to handle right up until he can’t.

“If you need time to think about it that’s totally — ” Evan says, when Harry doesn’t say anything.

“Okay,” Harry interrupts him. “I’m — okay. If that’s what you want, I’m in.”

“Are you sure?” Evan asks. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you aren’t okay with.”

“You couldn’t force a cat into a sack,” Harry says.

“Why would I want to?” Evan asks, sounding genuinely confused, and Harry likes him _so_ much and this sucks _so_ bad.

“I don’t know, it’s just a saying,” Harry says. “Maybe. I might have just made it up right now, I don’t know.”

Evan smiles a bit, but it drops away. “So I don’t know if you want me to go, or — ” he mumbles.

“No,” Harry says. “You — stay.”

“Yeah?” Evan asks.

“Beau hasn’t gotten all his licks in yet,” Harry says.

“ _Beau_ hasn’t?” Evan asks, then looks a little scandalized by himself for the innuendo.

“You’re so cute,” Harry blurts out before he can help himself, and Evan looking shy in response only makes it truer. “Come here.”

Evan steps into his space, Beau wandering off, miffed at being displaced, and Harry usually hates his height, especially in relation to his teammates, but he kind of likes the way he has to tilt his head up to meet Evan’s eyes. He puts a hand on Evan’s hip, squeezing, and Evan lets out a breath like he’s relieved, tilts into him a little more.

“Is this okay?” Evan asks, mouth an inch from Harry’s, breath ghosting across his skin.

_You stole my line_ , Harry thinks, but doesn’t bother to say, since it seems like a better use of energy to get on his toes and kiss him. 

*

Harry was right: Beau does not like Harry closing his bedroom door on him. The scratching is pretty annoying, but Harry’s totally capable of tuning it out when he’s got his tongue in Evan’s mouth and his hands on Evan’s ass. Beau gives up eventually, which is good, because Evan kept pulling back all worried about Beau, which was sweet but also the worst, because Harry was afraid he’d have to either put Beau in the bathroom or get massively cockblocked by his dog. 

This time when Harry gets his hand on Evan’s belt he doesn’t jerk away, but Harry wants to make sure. “Is this okay?” he mumbles against Evan’s mouth, and Evan’s response is to twist his fingers in Harry’s hair and kiss him again, which Harry thinks is permission, underscored by the sound he makes when Harry cups him through his underwear, hot and hard under his hand.

Evan pulls back, and Harry takes his hand back immediately, because maybe he should have waited for an actual verbal okay.

“I haven’t—” Evan says. “I’ve given a handjob before, but—” 

Harry is suddenly viscerally furious at whoever had their dick in Evan’s hand, which is probably really bad because fuck knows in the near future Roman’s going to, Evan’s hand or — Harry needs to stop thinking about this. 

“Me too?” Harry says. “Like, given a handjob but nothing else with guys, if that’s what you mean?”

“Really?” Evan asks, sounding relieved. “I didn’t want you to think —” 

Harry kisses him, which gets them sidetracked for awhile, Harry wrapping a leg around his waist, hips hitching against Evan’s abs, which are too hard to be comfortable — how dare he be so fucking fit — but he could probably get off doing anyway if they keep it up. A week of foreplay has made Harry pretty fucking easy.

“I want to—” Evan starts, pulling back, then falters. “I haven’t before, so I probably wouldn’t be any good at it, but—”

Harry is going to die if Evan means what he thinks he means. “Want to what?” Harry asks.

“Um,” Evan says. “Maybe um.”

“Spit it out,” Harry says, and then they end up giggling at each other like little kids because way to choose his wording.

“Have you ever gotten a blowjob?” Harry asks, and Evan shakes his head, which is simultaneously a relief and a travesty. It’s very confusing. “Okay, they’re basically good no matter what. Like pizza. Even bad pizza is good pizza.”

Evan still looks concerned.

“I’ll prove it,” Harry says. 

“You’ll prove it?” Evan asks.

“Yep,” Harry says. “Take your stupid pants off.”

“I like these pants,” Evan says.

“I like them too,” Harry says, because they make his ass look great. Not that he needs the help, but still. Good pants. “But I can’t blow you while you’re wearing them.”

“I’ll take them off,” Evan says quickly.

“That’s what I thought,” Harry says.

Harry may have zero experience in the way of dicksucking, but he’s not super worried. Fuck knows he’s always grateful just to get a mouth on his dick, and unlike handjobs there isn’t this whole ‘that’s nice but you’re not doing it right’ thing, because honestly with the amount of time Harry’s spent jerking himself off, he’s undoubtedly the best at it. Obviously preferences vary from person to person but he’s pretty sure wet hot suction is almost universally in the win column, though he’s not even sure it’s going to get that far since Evan’s dick jerks in his grip the moment Harry’s lips touch the head.

Harry pets his hip with his free hand. It’s meant to be soothing, but it just leads to Evan letting out a shaky breath, followed by an audible gasp when Harry sucks the head of his dick into his mouth, fingers clenching in Harry’s curls before he lets out a breathless “Sorry, sorry,” and takes his hand away.

“You can,” Harry says, pulling off. “Like, as long as you don’t push my head down, it’s cool with me.” He actually kind of likes the idea of that, but maybe not when he’s a still a complete blowjob novice.

Evan just stares at him open-mouthed, so Harry isn’t sure he’s even listening, but when Harry takes him back into his mouth his hand lands on the back of his neck, not heavy enough to push but heavy enough that it’s grounding or something, and Harry suppresses a shiver when his fingers start running through his hair, can’t help the noise he makes, muffled around Evan’s dick, when Evan’s fingers tighten as Harry takes him deeper. 

There’s no way Harry can fit all of him into his mouth, because he’s um — proportional. Harry would feel kind of jealous, despite the fact his dick is perfectly adequate, if he wasn’t so damn happy to get his mouth around it. It doesn’t end up being a problem, judging by how long Evan lasts. Harry would tease him about his stamina but honestly it’s pretty hot, how easy it is to make him fall apart, and Harry feels triumphant when Evan lets out these quiet little moans, voice sounding fucked up when he warns Harry he’s close. Harry pulls off at the last second, strokes him through it, getting transfixed by the sight of his tight abs streaked with come.

“See, not bad, right?” Harry asks, when he can finally tear his eyes away, and Evan laughs breathlessly and pulls him down for a kiss. 

Harry’s carefully chosen shirt is filthy by the time he pulls away, so hard in his jeans a blowjob would be a waste since he’ll probably come all over Evan’s face if he so much as breathes on his dick, which — holy fuck you are not helping, Harry’s imagination.

“Can I —” Evan says, reaching for the button of his pants, and Harry squeezes his eyes shut, tries to get himself under control. 

“I’m probably going to come in like two seconds,” he says. “Could I, um —” Even the release of pressure as Evan pops the button is enough to get him leaking. “Could I jerk off on you?”

“Okay,” Evan says, kind of shy, and when Harry opens his eyes he looks exactly the way he sounded, bashful but like, determined. Harry doesn’t even want to know how short an amount of time elapses between him pulling his dick out of his pants and him adding to the mess on Evan’s stomach, his hip, a streak of it on the underside of his softening dick which is so fucking — Evan’s going to kill him. Harry’s actually going to die of this.

“How are you this hot,” Harry says dumbly, and of course it only makes Evan look more shy, turning his face away like he’s hiding from acknowledging his own attractiveness. “Jesus, Ev.”

“That was okay?” Evan asks. “I mean I didn’t even—”

Harry kisses him, because he really needs to shut up. Also because he wants to kiss him. It’s mostly that second one.

“You hungry?” Harry asks, lips brushing over Evan’s jaw. “I make a pretty good steak, and I don’t think grilling season’s going to be lasting much longer.”

“Steak sounds good,” Evan says accompanied by a sweet little sigh when Harry grazes his ear with his teeth. “Harry—”

“Really hungry, or can it—” Harry asks, and he thinks he has his answer when Evan grabs his ass to haul him closer, kisses the rest of the question out of his mouth. 

*

They end up eating pretty late, Harry stubbornly shivering in front of the grill while Evan tosses a ball for Beau, who keeps totally ignoring the ball in favor of trying to get more pets from Evan. Harry’d be miffed, because Beau never ignores the ball for cuddles from _Harry_ , but like. He gets it, Beau. Forgiven.

They eat steak and a pre-mixed salad, Evan’s long legs brushing Harry’s under the table as Beau tries to beg, which he never does with Harry, because he knows it’s futile. 

“You feed him I’m dumping you,” Harry says, which was — God, stupid, it’s not like they’re even — who the hell knows what they are. “Um. I mean.”

“I won’t feed him,” Evan says, easy, like Harry didn’t just throw down a gauntlet.

“What is this?” Harry asks, because he may as well double down on it once he’s started. “Like. Us.”

“Whatever you want it to be,” Evan says. Harry wants it to be just the two of them, not Roman lurking out of the picture like some thug about to put a beating down on Harry’s feelings and self-esteem, so Harry doesn’t think that’s true at all.

“Like a couple?” Harry says, though when he thinks couple it tends to include ‘not thinking about the other person fucking other people’ along with the dates and sex and cuddling, so maybe he needs a different word. “Kinda?” 

“That sounds good,” Evan says, and Harry thinks he would have been a lot happier about this yesterday, but he still can’t suppress the smile that creeps over his face in response.


End file.
